


The Love Hotel Rondo

by 96percentdone (Nakanaide)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Background Character Death, M/M, Slow Burn, heck yeah, if you're wondering why this is rated t, it's because, it's not because it's saucy, it's the good shit, you'll like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 11:58:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 8,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16872537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakanaide/pseuds/96percentdone
Summary: The first time he woke up in the love hotel, he wasn't worried about it. The second time it was a little weird. Then it was a pattern. An ongoing phantom tango with a gold-eyed detective.Or, the story of how Ouma slowly falls in love with Saihara over the course of a week's worth of midnight rendezvous.





	1. The First Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the saiouma exchange but it's really late. I was so busy; I'm sorry person 50 whoever you are. I hope this makes up for the wait. 
> 
> Anyway the love hotel looks and works like how I want it to. It's mostly the same though if we're being honest.

Ouma wakes up standing in an unfamiliar, gaudy, pink room. No, he’s…somewhere else…? A cell, white-walled and barred—he shakes his head. That can’t be right, and with the fuzzy feeling overcoming his head— _focus_. He’s in a pink room with a brick wall, with a huge ugly bed with its dumb heart headboard and two small posts, surrounded by an absolutely ridiculous carousel. Without even really processing the kinky stuff in the corner he’s figured out where he is. _I’m in…the love hotel._

But he didn’t walk here; he woke up here. And given the drug-like effect—he turns around, brain still fuzzy from the room. Across the room is Saihara-chan, slowly scanning the room with his eyes. _Rebounding from Akamatsu-chan like this, huh?_ He almost says that out loud, but one look at Saihara-chan’s face, eyes slightly wide, _guess you didn’t think you were going to see me either_.

The silence drags on, etching itself into the walls. _Is he waiting for me to do something?_ A brief glimpse of the cell passes through his mind. _Maybe this is a scenario generator?_ He’ll have to look into it later, internally chiding himself for not investigating the stupid hotel more when it opened today.

An overblown sigh, one that forces his way through his whole body. “I haven’t been in this big a pinch in a while~”

Saihara-chan instinctively leans slightly forward in confusion. “…Pinch?” His brow furrows, mouth twitching into a frown. Does he not see the fake setting? Or maybe the illusion is just for himself? Or is this part of the act? _Nah, Saihara-chan definitely can’t act._

“To think you’d be able to imprison me here…As expected, Mr. Detective,” Ouma says with a slight nod and a smile. _Focus on that later._ “But I won’t spill the hidden location of the stolen jewelry! No matter how much you torture me, it’s useless~!”

For now…

“I-I won’t torture you!” Saihara-chan stumbles back, tripping over his feet where the tile becomes carpet and almost falling on the floor. “What exactly do you think a detective is?”

Ouma whines in disbelief. “You say that but…you plan to tie me down and rough me up don’t you?” He glances over at the bed; maybe Saihara-chan will pick up. “I mean, that’s why there’s a _convenient_ bed here too, right?”

He’ll set the stage…

Saihara-chan doesn’t seem to pick up on it. Maybe it wasn’t direct enough of a hint. “Of course I wouldn’t!” _Boring._

Ouma leans to the left, hands behind his head. “Eh? But isn’t that what happens to a phantom thief when they’re caught?”

“Phantom thief…?”

And play the game.

\- - - - -

“Just kidding~ did I get ya?” Ouma asks a squirming Saihara-chan beneath him. As if he was going to do anything, he thinks running towards the door. He’s not going to force himself on anyone, even if the room expects him to.

“What--? Wait, Ouma-kun!” Saihara-chan calls out behind him, but it’s too late. He’s already at the door.

“Nishishi~ That was pretty fun! See ya, Saihara-chan!” Really, he expected a more boring performance from him. “Next time I’ll think of an even more fun game, so make sure you excite me too~” It’s a low teasing whisper.

He doesn’t think there’ll be a next time, but if there was—he opens the door—he hopes it’ll be just as fun.


	2. The Next Day

When Saihara-chan enters the dining hall he stops, and for a brief second stares at Ouma with a bewildered look. _Is there something on my face?_ But Saihara-chan shakes his head, turns to sit down, and Ouma never gets any answers.

Well, it doesn’t matter. He has things to investigate today. He gets the feeling he didn’t check out the love hotel enough.


	3. The Second Night

Ouma wakes up standing in an gaudy pink room. No, he’s…somewhere else…? A cell—he shakes his head. He’s clearly in the love hotel. He broke in and investigated it earlier. The fuzzy feeling must be the room itself. _So this is supposed to be my ideal scenario huh…?_

He snickers to himself and turns to face his partner. Bewildered Saihara-chan. The room is pretty good, but he doesn’t need it. He’ll play the game without it.

A dramatic sigh. “I haven’t been in this big a pinch in a while~”

Saihara waits, as if at a loss, before asking “…pinch?”

“To think you’d be able to imprison me here…As expected, Mr. Detective.”

\- - - - -

“Just kidding~” _ugh_ “Did I get ya?” This déjà vu is getting unbearable. Every move he makes is overly familiar. Why? Has he done this before?

So he runs, ignoring Saihara-chan’s confused cries heading towards the door. “As if, Mr. Detective! But y’know,” he stops at the door. Saihara-chan despite the overwhelming familiarity was still pretty amusing. “This was pretty fun. I look forward to our next game~” For the smallest moment, he feels like he broke free.

As he opens the door, he thinks he catches a baffled expression on Saihara-chan’s face.


	4. The Next Day

Ouma’s in the middle of wolfing down some rice when he feels eyes on him. A glance. Saihara-chan. _Is this going to be a routine?_ He waves, gleefully munching on even more rice making a huge mess. Saihara-chan turns away and focuses back on Momota-chan’s incoherent rambles. _Eh, whatever,_ he shrugs to himself, focusing back on his meal.

\- - - - -

Saihara-chan comes up to him later that day and asks him a bunch of really typical detective questions. “So...now that you know about us, Saihara-chan... You must die!” Sure this is kinda fun, but…he thinks Saihara-chan wanted to ask about something else.


	5. The Third Night

Ouma wakes up standing in a gaudy pink room, and he’s done this before, hasn’t he? There’s a familiar vague fuzz floating about his head, and the room starts to shift into a cell, but even that’s a little too familiar.

He spins around. Saihara-chan jerks back in surprise. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then doesn’t, and waits, brow furrowed. _Guess he’s surprised to see me here,_ but even as he thinks that, the déjà vu settles in further.

He’s done this before. Does he just play along? Go along with the scenario planned out for him? Can he even safely step out of the confines of the scene? Sure, if Saihara-chan messes up his scenario it could cause ‘permanent despair’ or whatever, but does that apply to himself?

Saihara-chan opens his mouth again, but Ouma beats him to the punch. “You sure have me in a big pinch! To think you’d capture me here! Well, that’s to be expected from you, Mr. Detective~” He winks, an added flourish.

Saihara-chan blinks, surprised, seemingly unaware of the slight pink dusting his cheeks. _Ah, you’re so easy to fluster! Can’t decide if that’s predictable or fun._ As he debates this, Saihara-chan finally replies with “You put up quite a show, but it’s time to give it up.” He nervously grips his sleeve as he says this, glancing at Ouma without the bravado the sentence entails.

 _Come on, Saihara-chan! You have to look the part!_ Figures Saihara-chan would be like this. He’s probably scared he’ll mess up the part. “Why? Do you think I’ll tell you where I hid the stolen gems since you’ve cornered me?” Saihara-chan nods. “Well I won’t! Not even if you torture me!”

“I won’t torture you!” Saihara-chan sounds slightly more frustrated than affronted. He unconsciously waves his arm a little in protest. “Why is that what you think detectives do?”

“Well were you _not_ going to do that?” Ouma asks, leaning over to the side. He snickers and glances at the bed. “Well, maybe you consider the kinky stuff playing good cop huh? They even have rope for you to tie me up!” he shouts as he skips over to the Kink Corner™ and fiddles with a rope. Is he leaning too heavily on the fourth wall?

The light pink on Saihara-chan’s face immediately flares up into a bright red as he stumbles backward, catching himself on the wall. “No!” He pushes himself upright. “I wouldn’t do that!”

“Aww…” Ouma sulks, rope falling his side. “But I thought that’s what happened to phantom thieves when they’re caught…” As Saihara-chan barely recovers again, he can’t help but think _yep, messing with Saihara-chan is fun._

\- - - - -

Saihara-chan is pinned beneath him under the bed, but he looks unfazed. All he does is stare up at Ouma with expectant eyes. _So I’ve done this before hmmm?_ He doesn’t think he’s gone all the way. That—he’s not ready for that. Saihara-chan has to earn it. “You seem pretty comfortable. Nishishi~ so this is what you want after all!” he smirks, leaning a little closer.

“E-eh!?” Saihara-chan jerks under his grasp in surprise “N-no I—” but he doesn’t finish his thought because Ouma jumps off and runs. “Ouma-kun?” Now he’s lost again. _Yeah, that’s more fitting_ , he thinks.

“I was just kidding, Saihara-chan! But this was pretty fun,” Ouma laughs, placing a hand on the doorknob. “Keep me entertained next time, Detective~ I’m looking forward to it.” And he opens the door.


	6. The Next Day

Saihara-chan’s staring. Again. At this point Ouma almost thinks he’s used to it. “Y’know Saihara-chan, Yumeno-chan’s show is over there!” he says, pointing to the stage with a grin.

“Ah um, yeah, I know!” Saihara-chan replies turning back to the stage. There’s an awkward silence for a few seconds, before he turns back around again. “Hey, Ouma-kun—”

But he gets cut off when Angie-chan demands their attention, and Ouma’s left lost about what he was going to say.


	7. The Day After

He’s not surprised Saihara-chan is put in charge of investigating all the new areas again. Of course he is. He’s the detective, and unlike last time, Ouma’s not going to complain. Saihara-chan isn’t the worst person this could go to. _If anything, he’s kinda interesting,_ he thinks, remembering that (terrible) lie in last night’s trial.

Everyone files out of Harukawa-chan’s lab to explore, and just as Saihara-chan’s about to leave Ouma tugs on the back of his jacket. “Heyyy Saihara-chan! Do you mind if I come with you?” He still wants to know what Saihara-chan wanted to ask the other day.

To his surprise, Saihara-chan says “Sure, if you want.” He holds the door open and waits for Ouma to leave, and Ouma gleefully hops out. “Although I get to hold the objects, okay?”

“Yeah sure,” Ouma says, waving him off, and together they go. As he watches Saihara-chan puzzle out object after object, he forgets why he wanted to join.

\- - - - -

Ouma peers over at the chest Saihara-chan just opened. “Another flashback light, hm?” _Yippee! Can’t wait for more fake nonsense!_ “We should get the others and meet in the dining hall, right? Right! I’m going to go do that! You just head to the dining hall! And break!” he shouts, dashing towards the hall before Saihara-chan can even blink.

But he stops before he gets there. He forgot something. “Weren’t you going to get the others?”  Saihara-chan asks, following him out. _I wanted to ask him something…oh yeah!_

“Yep! But before I forget..” Ouma starts, pivoting to face Saihara-chan. “You wanted to say something to me yesterday before the magic show, right? That’s why you kept staring at me.”

Saihara-chan looks away, cheeks lightly dusted red. “Ah yeah I uh…I don’t really remember right now, sorry.” It’s another god awful lie. Ouma wants to be annoyed, he really does, but Saihara-chan continues, “I’ll tell you if I remember, okay?” and doesn’t wait for a response as he walks down the hall.

“I’m gonna hold you to that! I haaaate promise breakers!” Ouma calls out with a huff. He smiles lightly without noticing.

\- - - - -

Saihara-chan shows up later and gives him a death flag. “Nishishi~ Did you come to beg for your life?” But it’s funny, so he decides to play a new game. The detective has slowly become his favourite person to annoy.


	8. The Fourth Night

Eyes open. It’s a familiar gaudy pink room. Again? He doesn’t even register the dizzying buzz when he spins around on his heel to face whoever summoned him this time—

And promptly almost falls over.

“Ouma-kun!” A familiar voice shouts, and a warm hand grabs his shoulder before he could think about hitting the ground. It takes him a second to open his eyes and see Saihara-chan before him. Yeah, he’s definitely done this exact situation before. _Is this why he keeps staring at me?_

But this presents a problem. Is this part of the script? Aren’t these supposed to be scripted? He remembers Monokuma explaining as much to him on his investigation. Is this Saihara-chan’s? No, based off him almost collapsing, this is supposed to be his, but he doesn’t remember how it’s supposed to go. Something about being captured…

 _Well! Guess we’re just making something up!_ “Can’t believe I’m the damsel in distress!” he asks, grinning up at Saihara-chan, leaning back into his arm for drama. It’s almost comfortable here.

“E-eh?” Saihara-chan jolts, almost dropping Ouma, but he recovers straightening Ouma back into a standing position. “Well, I guess you could say that, since you’ve been captured, but…” he says, clearly at a loss. His cheeks are pinker than before.

 _Ahah, he’s so easily flustered. You’d think he’d be used to this by now._ He marks that down for another interesting thing about Saihara-chan. Seems that list just keeps growing from that first trial.

But Saihara-chan breaks him from his amused thoughts with a “Still, I wouldn’t think a phantom thief would think of a detective as his rescuer.” So this is the scenario, huh? “You’re usually—” he cuts himself off, as if he said too much.

“Awww, Saihara-chan’s disappointed…” Ouma hiccups, wiping at one eye as if to remove a stray tear. Yeah sure that was definitely a slip-up on Saihara-chan’s part, but he’s going to force it into the script. “Well, I didn’t put on a very good show if I got caught…” He sighs. And speaking of things to force into the script... “Still! You researched my name! Impressive! I’m feeling kind-of exposed, y’know?” He grins, flopping back on the bed.

Saihara-chan’s blush only gets worse. “I’ve been investigating, of course. How else could I capture you?” The delivery is slightly awkward. He edges toward the bed, but doesn’t let himself get too close.

Despite this, Ouma rolls off the bed and slides towards the Kink Pile™. “But I’m surprised,” he says, sifting through the pile. Aha! _Found it,_ he thinks, triumphantly pulling out a pair of fuzzy handcuffs. “I’d have thought you’d cuff me to play the part!”

Saihara-chan whines at the handcuffs, and then jerks seemingly at his own out of character reaction. _God he’s so cute when embarrassed!_ He shakes his head. “I don’t need to cuff you. There’s no way out of here.”

“Awww, but I didn’t mean thaaaatttt….” Ouma snickers with a wink, gesturing towards the bed with his head. “Although maybe you’re just not into all that kinky stuff, huh?” He deflates, sighing through pursed lips. “Shame, this room seems really useful for that.”

“Hey, are you…intentionally doing this?” Saihara-chan asks, with a furrowed brow, glancing between the bed and the pile of sex toys.

“Hmm? Doing what?” Ouma asks, tilting his head to the side with an innocent expression.

“….Nevermind,” Saihara-chan says, following Ouma towards the pile, and so their familiar phantom tango begins once more.

\- - - - -

He’s pushed Saihara-chan onto the bed, and Saihara-chan stares up at him. His cheeks are still pink, but his eyes are curious. He’s not reacting the way Ouma expected. _Why isn’t he panicked? Does he not care?_ For a moment, nothing happens. _Does he think I’m going to—_ “Nishishi~!” He pulls the fuzzy pink handcuffs from his back-pocket and cuffs Saihara-chan to the bedpost. “Good luck keeping me here now!”

Well, he’s not going to be trapped for long. They’re not real handcuffs after all. That little lever will free him in no time, but it gives Ouma more time to run. “This was fun, Detective! I enjoy our little rendezvous,” he says, stopped at the door watching Saihara-chan fiddle with the lever. “I’ll be sure to have an interesting game for next time! Look forward to it!”

He doesn’t remember their love hotel adventures much, but they’re pretty entertaining. No, more than that, Saihara-chan is entertaining. He wouldn’t mind doing this again.


	9. The Next Day

_Nope, there’s nothing here either,_ Ouma thinks, shuffling through the giant cleaning supplies closet in Toujou’s lab. He was wondering if maybe something interesting would be left here after her execution, but same with Akamatsu, there wasn’t. He shrugs. _Oh well._

He’s about to leave in boredom when the door opens. Saihara-chan. Maybe he’ll have fun after all! “Did you come here to investigate?” He asks. “You’re not gonna find anything; I just checked.”

“No, I…” Saihara-chan pauses, glancing around the room, like he suddenly lost confidence. “I was hoping I could talk to you,” he says, barely making eye contact.

“And after months of staring, our protagonist Saihara-chan finally works up the confidence to talk to senpai!” He snickers, shoving one of the mannequins off its chair and sitting down.

“H-huh?!” Saihara-chan flushes scarlet. “That—that’s not! It hasn’t even been months!” he sputters, walking over to the table and carefully taking off the dummy on the chair next to his.

“So you _were_ staring at me! Your crush is adorable, but unfortunately, I don’t know you very well!” Ouma rests his head in his hands against the table with an sly smirk. This is just too easy.

Saihara-chan makes a drawn out whining noise, and Ouma can’t keep himself from snickering. His snicker only seems to make Saihara-chan whine more. _That noise is classic!_ “Th-that’s not why! I wanted to ask about the love hotel.”

“Hm?” Ouma perks up at that. “Why?” He woke up that morning with vague memories of Saihara-chan in a gaudy room and a warm feeling in his chest. It was comfortable—don’t think about that. “Did you want to go with me? It’s kinda expensive,” he teases.

“No!” Saihara-chan shouts jumping out of his seat, far too loudly for the room. Ouma winces. “Sorry,” he says, sitting back down. “It’s not important anyway. We can just talk if you want.”

“Nishishi~ You lose your nerve so fast,” Ouma says, with an unintended twinge of affection he hopes Saihara-chan won’t notice. “Fine! But you better keep me entertained!”

Saihara-chan smiles faintly, and that warm feeling from this morning comes back. “I’ll do my best.”


	10. The Fifth Night

Everything is pink when he wakes up, and he’s not even surprised. This is going to be a regular thing, isn’t it? He sighs, his brain fuzzes over and the room shifts into a cell but he shrugs it off. He knows the drill. With a lazy flourish, Ouma turns around to find…Saihara-chan. Of course. Judging from their conversation earlier that day they’ve done this several times. He probably doesn’t remember them all. _Let’s do something a little different!_ “Detective! We meet again!”

Saihara-chan wears a tiny smile. Ouma doesn’t think that’s intentional. “So we do, Ouma-kun. But I won’t let you escape this time!” he declares, shifting back into a determined gaze. “You’ll tell me where you’re hiding the stolen gems.”

“Pff, if I didn’t tell you last time, what makes you think I’d tell you now?” Ouma asks, rocking back and forth on his heel before walking right up to Saihara-chan.

“Last time….?” Saihara-chan’s brow furrows slightly before it dawns on him. “Today’s a different day,” he replies, but it sounds a little rough around the edges. He’s still thrown off.

No matter. That’s fine by Ouma. It’ll make for a new interesting game.

\- - - - -

 _Now, this is different,_ Ouma thinks, staring up at Saihara-chan. His wrists are pinned with one hand above his head against the bed. He can’t bring himself to say anything even with his mouth hanging slightly open, only look into those intense golden eyes. “I’m not letting you pull off that same trick,” he pants. “This time you’re captured for good.”

That’s a problem. Sure, they’re in the love hotel, but Ouma isn’t ready for going that far. Is Saihara-chan going to—no, Saihara-chan wouldn’t force him. It’s just part of the scenario. But he is stuck here, and god he’s not ready for that. He can’t fuck Saihara-chan under the pretense of a lie. _Now, maybe if it’s real—_ he shakes his head. No, he’s not entertaining that thought. He can’t be thinking about his burgeoning crush right now. He can’t afford to have it. “So I guess you changed your mind huh? You really do want to have your kinky way with me!”

Saihara-chan flings himself off in a panic falling to the floor with a bang. _Worked like a charm._ “Th-that wasn’t my intention—wait, Ouma-kun!”

But Ouma’s already leapt off the bed and booked it to the door. “This really was a blast, Saihara-chan! You never fail to surprise me!”

He’s about to finish up with a line about looking forward to the next time when Saihara-chan speaks up. “Why do you always run?”

Ouma opens the door, leaving Saihara-chan behind in his wake.


	11. The Next Day

Something is clearly wrong with Momota-chan, and yet Saihara-chan comes to talk to him first. _Well,_ Ouma grins cheerfully, _might as well make the most of it!_ “So Saihara-chan, what I can I do ya for?”

“I don’t,” Saihara-chan glances hesitantly at Momota-chan before continuing “I’m not sure Momota-kun will be able to help much, so I thought I’d ask if you had any ideas about dealing with Angie-san.” Now that’s interesting. Since when did he trust him enough for this? Why? _Does this have to do with—_

“Weeellll, I think we should let her do it!” Ouma chirps, cutting off his own thoughts. He’s just not going to entertain that. He can’t let his emotions do whatever they want. “Wouldn’t it be kinda fun? Hell, maybe we can even convince her to resurrect Akamatsu-chan instead!”

Saihara-chan steps back, startled. “E-eh? Why…?” He looks concerned, doubtful even, but Ouma plows right past it.

“Isn’t she your favourite?” Ouma asks, leaning to the side with his hands behind his head. “Aren’t you rebounding from her by buying all those love hotel keys?” It’s insensitive, and cruel, and a stab to his own heart, but he doesn’t let his smile even twitch. _You can’t afford to get attached, Kokichi. Don’t forget that._

Saihara-chan glares, not daggers but needles slowly piercing into his skin and draining his heart away. “You really can’t stop messing with people for even one minute.” He sighs. “I don’t know why I bothered,” he mutters, turning around and walking back to Momota-chan.

He isn’t able to forget those hurt and disappointed eyes for the entire day.


	12. The Sixth Night?

He spends the entire night awake, not once catching a glimpse of a gaudy pink room.


	13. The Next Day

Saihara-chan didn’t even look at him when asking him to unlock Angie-chan’s lab this morning. He hasn’t looked at him all day. Even when running into Ouma in Shinguuji-chan’s lab he still refuses to make eye contact—no more than that. He won’t even face him. This is how it’s _supposed_ to be, and yet it still bothers him. No, he hates it.

“Heyyyyy, Saihara-chan,” Ouma says, poking Saihara-chan’s back repeatedly. A desperate bid to get him to turn around. He doesn’t. “You wanna join the séance?”

“Isn’t it already full?” Saihara-chan asks, before walking away. He didn’t turn around. _I’m not having that._

Ouma dashes up ahead of him skidding to a stop in front of the lab entrance before Saihara-chan and Harukawa-chan can even leave. “Yeah but we can easily just make Kiiboy leave. Robots and seances can’t mesh anyway.” He waves dismissively.

“You can ask someone else then,” Saihara-chan retorts, finally looking at him, annoyance clear in his eyes. “Can you please move? I have to investigate.”

“Saihara, I think you should go.” Harukawa-chan surprisingly comes to the rescue. “Not that I think Ouma is pleasant company,” she says with a pointed stare, “but I think as the detective you should be there.”

Saihara-chan appears to argue with himself over it before sighing. “Alright, lead the way.” Ouma smiles brightly, enthusiastically gesturing towards the hall, but he doesn’t return the favour.

They walk through the hall in silence. He has no obligation to fix this. It’s better it stays a mess. He should just focus on the murder. He should just let this die. His plan matters more. Ending the killing game ends more.

Yet he still ends up speaking. “I’m sorry.” It’s quiet; a desperate compromise to avoid being heard. But even that’s too much. “Nishishi~” he spins around to face Saihara-chan just before the door. “Maybe I shouldn’t have dragged you to a séance! You might be scared of ghosts!” It’s a desperate backpedal. He’s not convinced it’ll work.

“I’m not,” Saihara-chan rolls his eyes, but he smiles, ever so faintly. “If I was investigating would be much more difficult,” he says, catching up to Ouma’s side.

It didn’t work, but honestly, Ouma’s okay with that. He’s much happier with Saihara-chan looking at him again.


	14. The Sixth Night

Ouma’s surprised when he wakes up to the gaudy pink room. Didn’t they just finish a trial? _Well this is one way to cope with Shinguuji-chan’s grossness. It’s probably Iruma-chan._ The overwhelming dizziness at this point is only a vague buzz, but he turns around slowly to find—

Saihara-chan. _How many times have we done this?_ He honestly can’t tell, but he expects it’s a lot. He can’t say it’s the last person he expected, given the circumstances, but still it’s a surprise. “Nishishi~ Guess you’re making up for last time, huh?”

“Last time…?” Saihara-chan looks perplexed, almost as if he realized this moment was a little out of character slip up. _Well I have to fix that!_

“I was sooooooo lonely the other night you know!” Ouma says sliding to the bed and sitting on it with a loud oomph. “I waited the whole time for you to show up and capture me but no one did!”

“Ouma-kun, are you—”

“It’s really rude y’know! I wrote that calling card personally for you!” Ouma huffs, kicking his feet against the floor. Can’t have Saihara-chan talking about real life in their little fantasy. “You ignore me for a whole heist and now you expect to capture me just like usual again!”

Saihara-chan, realizing this isn’t going to get him anywhere, let’s out an exasperated sigh, walking towards the toy pile. “I was assigned to a murder case earlier that week and wasn’t able to do both cases.” There we go! Now their little scenario is still intact—“I’m sorry.” It’s too sincere for a lie. _You really wanna talk about this huh?_

“Huh?” Ouma leaps off the bed with an incredulous look. “Since when do detectives apologise to phantom thieves?” Fine, he’ll talk about it, but he’ll do it his way. He walks up to Saihara-chan, and stands on his toes gazing right into his eyes. For a moment, his expression is blank. “I’m the criminal, right?”

He waits, watching as Saihara-chan’s golden eyes shift between emotions. Guilt to confusion to finally understanding. Ouma smiles brightly, and wills himself back down on his heels. “Don’t expect me to apologize to you though! I’m never changing my evil ways!”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Saihara-chan says with a grin. It’s borderline devilish— _wait—_ but it’s too late. In seconds he feels the fuzzy pink handcuffs slapped onto his wrists. “You can’t make trouble anymore anyway!”

\- - - - -

He’s not surprised with Saihara-chan managed to corner him. These fuzzy pink handcuffs he has to pretend are real have been really inconvenient to his escape. But Saihara-chan’s pocketed the key, he thinks, noticing the slight bump in his pocket. If Ouma can get that, then he can escape.

But right now he’s pressed against the wall, hands cuffed in front of him. It’s the one advantage he has, he thinks staring at Saihara-chan’s pocket. “So,” Saihara-chan calls him to attention, wearing a light smirk. Those gold eyes are brimming with confidence. _That’s one hell of a look—shut up!_ “Ready to confess where you hid the stolen jewels yet?”

He has Saihara focused up here. Good. Now if only he could remember how words work. Ouma opens his mouth, throat dry, but he still forces out a cocky response. “Aww, my poor sweet detective. You really think you’ll get to lock me up?” He grins back, ignoring the blood that wants to rush to his face. _Focus._

“I won’t believe you if you tell me your allies are coming,” Saihara-chan replies, almost too easily. _Is that a lie I’ve used before?_ He can never remember these events too clearly. “Face it, Ouma-kun. You’re as good as trapped.” Saihara-chan leans in closer. _Perfect!_

“Awww, saw right through me already huh?” Ouma pouts, silently sneaking his hands towards Saihara-chan’s pocket. It’s unnoticed, but he keeps talking anyway. He can’t risk it. “Booo, I had a line all ready to go about a tracker anyway.” Almost there! “But y’know,” _aha!_ He shoves his hand into the pants pocket and snatches the key.

“Ah—!" Saihara-chan reacts, but it’s too late.

He doesn’t need to actually use the key to unlock it. It’d be a hassle, and probably not possible, so Ouma fakes it and slams his hand on the lever, releasing himself. “I told you I’m not getting locked away!” With his now free hands he swats Saihara-chan’s arms out of his way and runs towards the door. “But you’re getting better at this, detective!” he chirps.

“…Leaving again?” Saihara-chan asks. It lacks the confidence of before. No, more than that. It doesn’t sound like a detective speaking to a phantom thief. _You really need to stop breaking character to talk to me!_

“I can’t stay~! You’ll just lock me away!” He replies easily, one hand on the doorknob. He swings back and forth, but even as he stalls, Saihara-chan makes no move to recapture him.

“I don’t think that’s why.” Saihara-chan’s entirely lost his detective persona, but it feels like his eyes are looking right into his soul. _Saihara-chan already knows._

He can’t stay. The door flies open without a word, and Ouma runs out.  


	15. The Next Day

Ouma’s been debating over what to do with this keycard ever since he got it. He knows where it goes. He used those electrohammers to get past the Death Road of Despair and that keycard unlocked the door. It’s just more fake nonsense. _Well, it’ll be easy to incorporate into my narrative later._ He’ll need a complete story if he’s going to convince anyone he’s the ringleader.

He throws the keycard up and down aimlessly as he walks away from the boiler room. He’s not really paying attention to where he’s going. His thoughts keep drifting from doubt after doubt. That lie has been his plan the entire time, but he finds himself losing interest. No, his desire to end the killing game can’t be sated until he’s done it. That fire will burn until he wins or dies. But…is this the way he wants to go about it?

_I’ll be…so alone._

_You’re already alone._

_Well, I have Saihara-chan._ Saihara-chan, who pries and digs for the truth from him at every chance he gets. Who instantly loses composure the minute someone even slightly flirts. Who almost becomes a different person with just a little bit of confidence. Who despite everything continues to talk to him.

Warm eyes, like melted gold fill his thoughts.

_Urrgggh, will you forget about your stupid crush already? Look, it’s not going to work. He’ll just get bored of you anyway, and your plan that you need to **save** him means shoving him aside. Just accept it—_

But the angry, war-hungry little voice gets shut up by someone calling for him. “Ouma-kun!” _Speak of the devil,_ it thinks, as Saihara-chan walks over with a smile. That expression jumps to concern. “Did you figure out where that keycard went?” he asks, with a furrowed brow. He’s not even looking at the card, just at Ouma.

“Nope~!” Ouma lies with an easy grin, casually tossing the keycard to Saihara-chan. Saihara-chan scrambles to catch it. _I don’t really need it anymore._ “I’m not nearly as good as investigating as you are! Maybe we should look around together!” Like they did before. He could use a distraction from himself. _Even if this won’t help you in the long run—shut up._

But he doesn’t get the chance to go to war again, when Saihara-chan smiles ever so brightly at him. Those golden eyes gleam in the light. “Yeah, sure.”

\- - - - -

They never found anything, like Ouma expected, so he and Saihara-chan ended up sitting in the dining hall. Saihara-chan seems perfectly content just sipping his water, to catch his breath. He’s not really paying attention to Ouma. _Perfect._

Ouma quietly stands up and slides into the kitchen, grabbing one of the steak knives. Apparently it wasn’t quiet enough, because Saihara-chan immediately shouts, shoving his chair back so hard it falls as he stands up, “Ouma-kun! What are you doing with a knife?!”

“Nishishi~” Ouma snickers, strolling back to the table knife in hand and cutting board in another, “well we still have to settle the score once and for all!”

‘A-are you…?” Saihara-chan trails off, seemingly not convinced by the sentence he can’t finish.

“No, I’m not going to kill you,” Ouma groans, disappointed Saihara-chan entertained the idea for long enough to be unconvinced by it. “Boring. You still have to lose before you die!” He plops back down in his seat.

“Why do you insist on pretending you want me to die…?” Saihara-chan asks, picking the chair back up. He slowly sits back down, concern still hasn’t left his face.

“It's not a joke, Saihara-chan! You know I hate lies and jokes,” Ouma glances over at the other boy. If he plays dumb enough Saihara-chan will drop it, and as expected, Saihara-chan shakes his head. “So, you ever played the knife game?” he asks, sliding the knife back and forth between his hands like it was an empty cup.

“No,” Saihara-chan says, watching the blade go back and forth. His hand twitches from its spot on the table, inching closer to Ouma.

“I’ll show you!” Ouma says gleefully, grabbing the knife with his left and splaying his right hand against the table. “You just kinda…” with practiced ease he starts stabbing the spaces between his fingers, before stopping. “Like that!”

“That’s dangerous!” Saihara-chan reaches for the knife, as if to take it from him, but Ouma plays keep away. “What if we get hurt?”

“That’s what makes it fitting right? A game for your life, with a prelude of injury!” _Besides, you’ll be fine,_ Ouma thinks, waving Saihara-chan off with his right, before placing it back in position. Before Saihara-chan gets the chance to protest, he smirks. “I’ll go first! You better be a good visual learner~”

The knife moves super-fast, but it’s easy for him to track. He’s done this so many times with DICE; he could probably do this for five straight minutes or more. But that’s not what he’s here for. The point isn’t to win; it never was. His grip on the knife loosens ever so slightly, nicking his thumb in the process. “Tch,” he flinches. That hurt more than he expected.

Saihara-chan cries next to him, and he can hear the violent squeak of the chair being shoved back again, but Ouma doesn’t stop. The show must go on. “Stop! Stop!!” Saihara-chan grabs his wrist, stopping the knife in mid-air. “You don’t need to keep going, okay? Just, let me get something for it. Stay still,” he says, prying the knife from Ouma’s hand and running into the kitchen.

He comes back with a first aid kit, gently patting at the wound with a disinfected towel. It stings, but Ouma doesn’t wince. He’s too caught up watching Saihara-chan tend to him, those gold eyes concentrated on his injury. “Nishishi~” That giggle bubbles into a laugh he can’t contain. Saihara-chan looks at him strangely but he can’t stop himself. He’s just so—so—

Happy.

Is this something he really has to give up for his plan?

“Okay, I think,” Saihara-chan says, packing up the first aid kit, “I think that’s good enough, right?”

“Yeah, that should work,” Ouma replies, shaking his hand out of Saihara-chan’s gentle hold and examining it. “It’s not like it was a deep cut or anything. Thanks!” It’s more genuine than he planned. Or maybe for a moment he’s just stopped planning.

But he needs to finish up their game. “But congrats! You won! I can’t believe I lost!” _Well, that was the plan from the start,_ he thinks, but keeps his snort to himself.

“But I didn’t play,” Saihara-chan replies, stopping midway between returning the first aid kit.

“Well yeah, but since I messed up, you win by default!” Ouma replies, jumping up to his feet. “Besides, I got what I wanted!” Saihara-chan stares at him confused, before resuming putting the kit away. “Yeah, I killed you Saihara-chan!”

“I’m…still alive,” Saihara-chan says, closing the drawer on the first aid kit and walking back over.

Ah yes, the part where he pulls shit out of his ass. _Good thing that’s my skillset!_ “But I made you _die_ with worry, right?” He asks, leaning off to the side with an easy smirk. “You worried about if I meant it, or why I’d say something like that…I bet even right now you’re wondering! You’re concerned about me from the bottom of your heart!” Simply saying at out loud makes his heart flutter. “Now you won’t ever forget me for the rest of your life.”

“Huh…?” Saihara-chan asks, his voice so soft he could barely hear it.

“I stole your heart, so I’m satisfied!” Or at least, despite everything, Ouma hopes he did. "I don’t need to steal your life anymore.”

“I—I didn’t think—but why would you--?”

Ouma cuts off Saihara-chan’s desperate attempts to form a coherent sentence. “Because it was a lie, duh! I’m a liar! I said so from the start! I’d never want to take your life to begin with!” And with that, he gleefully skips towards the door, mission accomplished.

But just before he can leave--“Wait!” Ouma turns around, to find Saihara-chan walking up to him. Saihara-chan doesn’t look up, face the color of an apple, before presenting something in his hand. It’s a heart shaped key. _The love hotel._ “I um…” _Did I really—Shut up!_ “I wanted to…” he keeps stumbling through his words, unable to make eye-contact. “I think you should use it. I—I’ve been meaning to test if it was just me getting the same person over and over, so I thought I’d…”

“Hmmm?” Ouma swipes the key and dangles it before his eyes, forcing the blush that wants to flood his face to stay back. “But how would my only using it once help you prove that?”

“Well, it’s more like…” Saihara-chan makes a frustrated noise, and fidgets with his hair. “I wanted to see if the love hotel was somehow making sure that I—I would always end up with you.” His burning face only gets worse at that. “Look, just—let me know if that’s the case or not tomorrow, alright?” He asks, before running out the other exit.

It’s a weird request. Especially given the timing. (Didn’t he just practically confess?) He stares at the key in silence, contemplating his choices. He’s not sure if Saihara-chan’s deduction is right, but it might be worth testing. And—he grins— _maybe we can to play a different game!_


	16. The Seventh Night

It’s different actually walking into the shitty over-decorated room himself versus waking up dizzy. The key enters the door easily with a click, and into the room he goes. He blinks, staring at the bed, unmoving, waiting for the inevitable fuzz to overtake his head but it doesn’t. Despite being here who knows how many times, the room seems clearer now. He’s seen that stupid carousel enough for it to haunt his actual dreams, and yet it’s like he only just processed that it has the same ugly face that Monokuma does. _This room is so…unfortunate,_ he thinks, unconsciously walking up to the bed.

_Isn’t Saihara--someone supposed to be here?_ He looks around in front of him, looking for a telltale suit—anyone, but they’re not here. It’s strange though. _That’s where I usually wake up…Is this thing broken? Maybe I should demand Monokuma reset the room…_ He turns around to leave when—

Saihara-chan waits, in same spot as always. Why is he over there? _Pfft, maybe he has a different spawn spot than me,_ he snickers to himself. Saihara-chan blinks, but doesn’t say anything. He hasn’t said anything at all. Has he just been here waiting? An idea tugs at the back of Ouma’s, but he ignores it. It’s too soon for that. But the silence goes on long. Does Ouma have to be the one who says something?

“Ooooi, Saihara-chan!” Ouma skips up to the quietly staring teen and waves a hand in front of his face. “You awake over there? Helloooooo?”

Saihara-chan jerks like he’s been struck by lightning and takes a step back. _Crap did I break script already?_ What else was he supposed to do; Saihara-chan wasn’t reacting! “Shouldn’t you be trying to escape?” He asks, eyeing Ouma warily. Ouma doesn’t miss how Saihara-chan checks Ouma as if he’s hiding something.

_Escape?_ “Should I be?” Ouma asks, leaning off to the left with his hands behind his head.   _Is this--? No._ He’s not going to assume what the situation is just yet. “Maybe I don’t want to!” He snickers behind his hand. He’ll figure it out as he goes.

Saihara-chan frowns, scrunching his brows together. Damn, his analysis game must be really off the mark because Ouma’s zero for two right now. But while his face is confused his eyes are something else. Something…sad? Like all the warmth in them is slowly leaking from the walls that are his skull. “So you’re turning yourself in already?”

_It really seems like—_ Ouma shakes his head. No, that’s a bold assumption. Maybe they just have similar fantasies. Saihara-chan might just be a lot kinkier than he lets on. But still, since he’s messed it up, maybe. “Nishishi~ Of course not!” He takes a huge step back. “You have to catch me properly!”

It seems to take a minute before Saihara-chan grins. “That’s part of the game, right?” he asks, not-so-stealthily making his way towards the pile of sex toys.

“Yep!” Ouma chirps, taking a seat on the bed. _He’s probably going for the handcuffs, he_ thinks instinctively, but he makes no move to stop him. He’s fucked this up two many times already. “You’ll have to arrest me fair and square!”

And yet two seems to become three because Saihara-chan looks at him funny for not moving. Was that weird? “I’m surprised you didn’t stop me,” he says, grabbing the handcuffs.

“Pfft,” Ouma laughs, large and overblown, leaning back just to sell the act. “Do you really think I’m scared of a pair of handcuffs?” He can’t be sure this is the right role, but it’s just so easy to play. “You’ve never caught me with those before~”

“Not yet anyway,” Saihara-chan agrees, walking, no, sauntering up to the bed. “But that’ll change. Your time is up.” _He sure is overconfident._ Is that part of the fantasy? _It’s hot—SHUT UP._

He should probably run, keep up the ruse, but he’s frozen in place. Should he even run? This is Saihara-chan’s fantasy after all, not his! He can’t break Saihara-chan, but he can’t just stay here! “You—” He gulps, finally finding the strength to push himself, sliding back further onto the bed, “You sure seem confident~” he tries to singsong that remark but it comes out too airy to be believable. The pillows press against his back.

Saihara-chan continues encroaching, as if he’s not aware of just what this is doing to him. “Well, why shouldn’t I be?” He smirks, his face so so close to Ouma’s. Ouma unconsciously holds his breath. “After all, I already won,” He slaps the handcuffs on, one on Ouma’s left wrist and the other right to the bed post. _Fuck,_ Ouma watches with wide eyes as Saihara-chan tosses the key across the room and he can’t bring himself to try and catch it. Those melted gold eyes are bright and beautiful, shining of accomplishment. “You won’t be running this time.”

Running?

A memory resounds in his head. _“Why do you always run?”_

Saihara’s expression falls into doubt. “This…this was too easy.”

Ouma’s breath hitches. _Oh._

“You’d never let me catch you like this.”

_This really is…_

“Is this…”

_Mine._ “Mine?”

The room is completely quiet as the two of them stare at each other, realization and surprise etched into their eyes. For what feels like minutes, nobody moves. Nobody blinks. Nobody breathes.  And then Saihara-chan shoves himself off, sitting at the edge of the bed. Even from here, Ouma can see the scarlet flooding his face.

“Well,” Ouma starts, pressing down on the lever with his free hand, “that’s about enough of this, don’t you think?” This has definitely gone too far, and he’s totally screwed it up if Saihara-chan’s figured out the jig, and most importantly he doesn’t want to think about what any of this means!

“I’m gonna head on out,” he finger-guns as he sits up. “You should maybe see if Monokuma will give you a refund because your fantasy broke, but hey at least you know the answer to your science experiment—” he’s about to get up when Saihara-chan grabs his wrist and mumbles something. “Hmm?” He tries breaking his wrist free but to no avail. “I didn’t quite catch that~” He yanks, but Saihara-chan just grips tighter.

“I told you I’m not letting you run away this time.” Saihara-chan turns to face him, determination clear in his gaze. “You always run. Every single time.” He wears a half smile. “Even if it went wrong, it’s my fantasy right? You have to stay.” His grip slides from Ouma’s wrist to his hand, as he pushes himself back further on the bed. “Besides, if it’s anything like your experience, I won’t remember any of this tomorrow.”

His legs are twitching. He really wants to run. To pretend none of this ever happened. That it was a weird fever dream, or his own fantasy gone too far, and he’ll wake up tomorrow with only fuzzy memories and no painful realizations. But he doesn’t, and with a sigh he plops down on the bed next to Saihara-chan. “Sheesh, you’re really unfair when you want to be.”

“I figured I’d cheat to win,” Saihara-chan giggles, leaning back against the headboard.

“And yet I’m the evil one.” Ouma shakes his head and follows along, and they both stare up at the ceiling.

The room falls to a peaceful quiet with only the whirr of the carousel gliding around the bed and the beating of his heart. They say nothing, because there’s nothing to say. Saihara-chan’s hand is warm in his own, and that warmth conveys everything they both understand. It’s comfortable, comfortable in ways he hasn’t let himself feel since he woke up in a locker. _I could probably sleep like this._ It’d be the nicest sleep he’s had in weeks.

“Hey,” Saihara-chan speaks up. “Can I ask you something?”

“mm?” Ouma hums. He might be drifting off more than he thought.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About stealing my heart?” Saihara-chan glances over at him. Ouma notices his face is still red. _Well, we probably match,_ he thinks, feeling the heat in his cheeks.

“I said I’d stay, not answer all your questions.” He slumps against Saihara-chan’s shoulder. He wants to enjoy this while it lasts.

“Ahah, I figured you’d say something like that.” Threading his fingers between Ouma’s, Saihara smiles to himself. “You don’t have to tell me. I think I know. Even if I’ll forget tomorrow morning.” His words are soft.

Everything is soft. It’s cozy and comfortable. It’d be so easy to fall asleep, but he doesn’t want to. The minute he wakes up, he’ll lose this. They’ll both lose this. Tomorrow he’ll get up and continue making himself out to be the ringleader. Tomorrow he’ll go back to pushing everyone out. Tomorrow he’ll be alone again. His heart clenches.

A head rests on top of his. “You’ll tell me about this tomorrow, right…?” Saihara-chan asks with a yawn. “I at least just want to know if my hypothesis was correct.”

He can’t bring it in himself to lie. Or maybe he just wants to tell the truth. “Yeah, sure.”


	17. The First Day

Saihara-chan’s been dodging his eyes all day. He must still be embarrassed about yesterday’s events. He’s about to slide out of the dining hall without saying a word to Ouma when he yells out. “Heeeeyyy, Saihara-chan!”

“H-huh?” Saihara-chan turns around, still not making eye-contact.

“I’ve got _aaalllll_ the answers to your little experiment!” Ouma grins, wide and bright, grabbing Saihara-chan’s hand in his own. “We have a lot to talk about~”

**Author's Note:**

> So that's it! I hope you all enjoyed the journey. I wrote it as a oneshot but it's more fun to split it up like this so I did! Thank you for reading and please feel free to comment if you thought or felt anything at all.


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